


Shadowed Rose

by DoctorDeadWizard



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Class Differences, F/M, Falling In Love, Love, Mild Language, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:03:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 19,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6769825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorDeadWizard/pseuds/DoctorDeadWizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A timid woman, who has spent most of her life in shadows, finds herself pulled out of them and into a world that is better than the one she was sold from. The Lord that has taken her into his charge, finds her to be more than he had expected. Two original characters set in the Game of Thrones setting (TV show only).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Need

**Author's Note:**

> This story is primarily mostly original characters in the Game of Thrones setting.

Lord Petyr Baelish, or Littlefinger as he was known to his closest associates, was trying his best to indulge the visiting lord from a small yet significant town south of Kingswood, north of Summerhall and east of The Reach. The lord sat slouched in his chair. His hand held his head and he looked disinterested as he surveyed the women Littlefinger was parading in front of him, without much success.

Lord Salvael Musgood was an older man. He was aged five and a half decades. Short dark hair was evenly graying on his long head that was chiseled, but sagged slightly from age. His lips were thin, pink, and straight. A stern brow hung over eyes that were youthful, large and, slate blue. They brightened when he was happy, but turned gray when he was not. At the moment, they were neutral. 

"Is she not sufficient enough? I can offer you two," Littlefinger offered as he clapped his hands. Another woman, from a string of women, stepped forward to stand next to the blonde in front of the lord.

"No, no," Salvael said as he waved off Littlefinger. "I'm not in the mood for women."

"Oh?" Littlefinger responded seeing the lord looking dismal. "I have remedies for that too. If you are having difficulty . . . ."  
"I'm not having difficulty!" the man said sounding irritated. Sitting up in his chair and smoothing out his dark blue velvet jacket, Salvael looked over at the wine decanter.

“Then what troubles you, My Lord? You would be surprised at what I can obtain to cure what ails you,” Littlefinger said pouring a goblet of wine, observing every move the lord made.

Salvael rolled his eyes then pressed his hand to his forehead. After a second or two, he sighed. Littlefinger handed the lord the goblet of wine. Salvael took a deep drink before he spoke again.

"If you must know, my servant died yesterday. He tripped, fell down the stairs, and broke his neck. I have no one to tend to me. My guards are rubbish at doing anything domestic,” Salvael explained. 

“That was your servant?” Littlefinger asked hearing about the man who had died tragically in a fall. Salvael nodded as he drank more wine.

“Cassabeth can do any domestic chore you need her to do," Littlefinger said as he ushered a dark haired beauty before Salvael.

"And what do I do when I leave this place? I can't take her with me. She belongs to you. I'm sure you are very lovely dear, but no thank you,” the lord said as he set his goblet down on a side table near the chair he was sitting in. He stood up and addressed Littlefinger again. “Now, Lord Baelish, if you could procure me a permanent replacement for my previous servant, I would be forever grateful. Until then, I don't want to be late to dinner with the king, good day."

It had been put to Littlefinger to persuade Salvael to join the Lannister side of the raging war. Keeping him out of the company of any Baratheon was imperative. Finding the lord a new servant could put Littlefinger into the lord's good graces and open his ears to reason.

"Give me two days to obtain a group of prospects for you to choose a servant," Littlefinger suggested watching him walk to the door.

Salvael halted. Turning around, his tall sturdy build made him look like a giant next to one of the women he happened to be near. He considered Littlefinger, knowing the man was trying to keep him in King's Landing for longer. 

"I'm only here another day and leave the following morning. I'll give you half a day," Salvael uttered.

"That's impossible,” Littlefinger retorted. The lord shrugged and went to leave again. “If you want the best, I need at least two days."

The Lord chewed on his thumb as he decided. Two days would give the king more time to persuade him to support anyone associated with the Lannisters, despite his name being Baratheon. If he demanded the half day, he could end up with some woman Littlefinger pulled out of Fleebottom. "One day. You bring me a line of possible servants to me at this time tomorrow in my chambers here."

Lord Baelish considered Lord Musgood. It gave him time to find better women, and if he found the perfect one, he wouldn't need more time for persuasion, only negotiation.

"All right. I need to know a few things before you take your leave, My Lord," Littlefinger said. Salvael gestured for him to continue. "Would you prefer a male or female servant?"

Salvael was intrigued with the question. He hadn’t given it much thought, and now he was. The lord thought out loud for a moment. "My previous servant was male. I hired him when I was married to my wife. She has been gone five years now. Perhaps I should have a female servant this time. There are times I need a lady's opinion in my household. Make sure she is clean. I don't want scum off the street."

"I’ve already said I would get you the best, My Lord," Littlefinger said with a nod. 

As Salvael left, Littlefinger noted that the Lord was gazing at a petite redhead that he had been standing beside. Other than the women he had offered, this was the first woman the lord truly noticed. Littlefinger grinned. Then he called for one of his male servants.

“Michael, I want you to follow Lord Musgood. You are only to observe. Do not approach him. I want to find out what sort of women he converses with, which ones make him happy,” Littlefinger instructed.

“Yes, Lord Baelish,” Michael said. Putting up his hood, he left to catch up with Salvael.


	2. In Shadow

There was a particular tavern in town that catered to a more well to do clientele. It was called The Warm Hearth. The tavern wenches were dressed in fine fabrics, the food was splendid, and only the best spirits were kept on hand. The proprietor prided himself with his service that he offered. It seemed the better the service, the better the coin.

The building had once belonged to a lord, but it had been abandoned when he died, having no heir to take it over. When the proprietor, Marcus Olangus, was searching for a new location for his business, he chose the lord’s house. It was away from Fleebottom and all that sort of low life.

There was one servant he was particularly fond of. She was homely looking with long red hair that show signs of her age. She wasn’t young anymore, but she wasn’t ancient either. The one quality she possessed that Marcus took advantage of was her observation skills. She would stand in the shadows observing the patrons, or she would overhear their conversations as she cleared off nearby tables, then report to Marcus.

“What have you for me today, Finella?” Marcus asked looming slightly taller than her.

“It’s been quiet,” she responded in a soft voice as she brought in a used plate and cup into the kitchen.

“Well done. Keep me informed,” he said before he went out to the tavern floor.

“As always." Finella returned to cleaning off the tables.

Salvael had heard of The Warm Hearth and was going there after his meal with the king. He needed to get away from the castle. He knew Lord Baelish's true intentions and he needed to clear his head. The Baratheons had taken a bit of a fall but were holding steady, but the future looked bleak for the Lannisters. He entered and sat down at a table near one of the two hearths where it was warmest.

“Good evening, milord. Can I get you something to eat or drink?” a slim blonde asked of Salvael.

“Wine, red wine,” he answered.

“Very well, milord,” she said as she curtsied and went off to fetch the drink.

From her usual shadow in the corner by the kitchen door, Finella had watched Salvael enter as she had with every person that walked into the tavern. He sat facing her, his face brightened by the glow of the fire against the darkened atmosphere. He intrigued her. She only looked away to watch another man enter and sit near the door. Then she looked towards the lord again, not able to take her eyes away from him. She stopped the blonde on her way to get his drink.

“Tersa, who is that?” Finella asked quietly.

“You seem to know everyone around here. I was about to ask you the same thing,” she said with a hand on her hip.

“I haven’t seen him around here before,” she said still staring at the Lord.

“He's old. He doesn’t seem to be very important. Where do you think he’s from?” Tersa asked turning around to observe him as well.

“He's not that old, definitely a lord, but since we've never seen him before, I think his House is small,” Finella surmised. “What did he order?”

“Wine.”

“When you take it to him, ask him where he is from.”

“Why don’t you?” Tersa said walking away and laughing. Finella scowled.

Tersa often teased Finella about her shyness. Finella did not talk to the patrons unless they spoke with her. It was another reason why Marcus kept Finella. She didn’t bother the patrons with unnecessary conversation, doing her work in silence. Her pudency kept her honest, amongst other things.

Finella's eyes darted back to the man who had entered after the lord. She recognized him as that of one of Lord Baelish's men after he put his cowl down. The man would look in the lord's direction occasionally, especially when Tersa returned with his wine or asked him if he needed anything else. It was suspicious. She went to find Marcus but when she did, he was having his way with one of the wenches in his study. She contemplated interrupting his escapade. This had happened once before. Finella had interrupted him during on of his sessions with a woman. He had scolded and punished her for doing so. She was unable lay down for two days. Now, she panicked, thinking something would happen to the lord if she didn’t tell Marcus straight away, and then, something would happen to her again. 

Finella went back to her shadow fretting about how to tell the lord, wishing she could write a message to him, wishing she could approach him to tell him. Perhaps she could tell Tersa to tell him? Tersa had already laughed at her for not inquiring from whence he came.

Seeing a table that needed to be cleared Finella went to it, passing right by the lord. At that moment, a knight sitting at a table next to the lord swung out his arm as he told a story. Finella went to avoid it and knocked right into the lord. He had been raising his cup to drink and it spilled down his front. Finella turned abruptly, catching the lord’s unexpected gaze. He looked more striking up close. She immediately looked away.

“I’m terribly sorry, milord,” she said as she dabbed at the lord’s front with a cloth she carried with her.

“It’s all right. Just an accident,” the lord said. He gently took Finella’s hand, taking the cloth from her, and attending to himself. He noticed how she didn’t look him in the eye. She was very wary, seeming as if she were about to flit away. “What’s your name?” he asked gently. 

Finella didn’t know what to say. Should she answer or return to the kitchen? She frantically looked around as if someone were there with the answer.

“It’s all right, woman. I'm not going to bite you,” he said calmly. “Here, let me start. My name is Lord Salvael Musgood. Now, tell me your name.” His serene tone helped her to relax.

“F-Finella,” she answered as she kept her gaze on the table.

“Finella, be a dear, and get me more wine,” he told her as he handed her cloth back to her. Finella curtsied and went to get Tersa.

After getting back to the kitchen, she found the blonde drying cups.

“Lord Musgood needs more wine,” Finella told Tersa in a hushed voice.

"Who's Lord Musgood?" Tersa asked putting down the cloth and shelving the cup.

"The unknown lord," Finella returned. 

“Oh, you found out his name. Why does he need more wine? I just took him some. He drink it that quickly?” Tersa said getting the wine jug but noticed the guilty look on Finella’s face. Glancing at the red stained towel she saw in Finella's hands, her small mouth fell open. “What did you do, Finella?” asked in a raised voice.

“I . . . I didn’t do anything. I . . . I accidently bumped into him,” Finella said in defense.

“What’s this?” Marcus said entering the kitchen. “Why are you shouting, Tersa?”

Tersa had grabbed the wine soaked cloth from Finella’s hand. “Looks like Finella spilled wine over our unknown lord out there. I bet he’s in a right mood now, thanks to her.”

“Is this true, Finella?” Marcus asked a bit more mildly.

“I accidently bumped into the lord and spilled a bit of his wine, sir,” Finella answered timidly. “He’s not upset. I swear it! He only asked for more wine.”

“Tersa, go attend the lord. Make sure all is well,” Marcus instructed. 

Tersa looked from Marcus to Finella. Finella was looking at the floor. She scoffed and then left the kitchen. 

Marcus took up Finella’s hand into his. She flinched slightly. “You’re first accident in a very long while. It happens. Go back to your duties.”

“Yes, sir,” she said and went to stand in the shadows when she remembered the table she had meant to clear before the mishap. Taking a deep breath she went towards the table again. Keeping her head down, she swept her eyes here and there for potential hazards.

After gathering the plate and tableware, she looked up at the back of Lord Musgood’s head. She gazed over at Lord Baelish's man by the door. Looking down at the plate in her hand perplexed at what to do. He had been kind to her, not getting upset as many other lords would have. She had to warn him, if only to repay him for his gentleness. On her way back to the kitchen, she walked by the lord and pretended to drop the fork on the floor.

“Milord,” she said softly from the floor. “Don’t look, but there is a man sitting by the door, alone. He followed you and has been watching you. I know him to be one of Lord Baelish’s men,” she said to him without looking at him.

Lord Musgood didn’t say anything as she stood. Finella returned to the kitchen. Placing the dishes in the wash basin, she gripped onto the edge breathing heavily. She hoped she had done the right thing.

After Finella cleaned the dishes and put them away, she slipped out to her shadow once more. The lord was gone and so was his follower.


	3. Bought

The next morning, Finella woke first, as usual. She started washing the highly polished tables with soap and water. She had merely wiped them off from the previous night. As she proceeded with her duties, Marcus had woken up and descended the stairs that were against the far wall to the left of the entrance hall. A wall separated the rest of the area for the patrons which consisted of curtained booths for privacy and open tables for those who didn't care. 

“Morning, Finella. Up early again, I see,” he said as he stretched and yawned as he entered the room. “Anyone else up?

“Ventrus is making breakfast for everyone,” Finella said. She had just finished the tables and was about to take the curtains off the booths to beat the dust out of them when there was a knock at the door. Both she and Marcus looked at the door.

“It’s far too early for patrons,” he noted as he went to the door. He was determined to turn away whoever was there.

He opened the door to reveal Lord Petyr Baelish standing there. Someone Marcus never turned away. 

“Milord, a pleasure to see you. Please, come in,” Marcus said and held the door open for them. He then frantically tucked his shirt into his trousers.

“Don’t bother,” Lord Baelish said as he looked around and entered the dining hall. “I won’t be here long. I need to see all your ladies, Marcus.”

“That won’t be necessary, milord,” said a young man standing behind Lord Baelish's right shoulder. “She’s right there.” He pointed to the lone woman in the room.

Lord Baelish and Marcus stared at Finella. She froze with her hands on the curtain she was about to unhook. Slowly, she looked over at the men.

“Finella, come here please,” Marcus said. She let go of the curtain and walked towards the men, stopping in front of the them with her eyes cast down on the floor.

“Michael, you are positive this is the woman?” Lord Baelish asked the young man. Finella noticed it was the same man that had followed Lord Musgood into the tavern.  
Littlefinger scanned Finella with his eyes. He didn't seem taken with her.

“Yes, milord,” he answered. Finella noticed he had a bruised eye.

“I wish to purchase her,” Lord Baelish said. Finella appeared in fright as she glanced at Lord Baelish and then looked with pleading eyes to Marcus.

“I’m sorry?” Marcus asked wondering if he had heard Lord Baelish correctly.

“I want to buy her from you,” Lord Baelish said making it clear this time.

Finella stared at the floor again but her breathing became erratic with unease. She didn’t want to work at a brothel, knowing Lord Baelish was reestablishing it. Then again, he chose mostly younger women, not someone her age, which made her wonder why he wanted her.

“How much?” Marcus inquired. He glanced at Finella then back towards Lord Baelish.

“Enough for you to offer your finest wine to every patron for the week,” Lord Baelish answered holding out a large leather pouch of coins.

“Done,” Marcus said as he took the pouch from Lord Baelish’s hand without a second thought.

“Take her,” Lord Baelish commanded as two men came around him and grabbed Finella by the arms.

Finella didn’t protest, knowing that if she did it wouldn’t make a difference anyway. The last time she protested, she was beat. She bowed her head to her chest knowing that money always spoke louder than any human ever could.


	4. Sold

The meeting Salvael had with the young king had gone well, but he still had decisions to make which he would not decide upon until he returned home. For now, Lord Baelish had promised him a new servant and he was hoping the man would keep his word despite what had transpired the evening before.

Finella, the woman in the tavern, had been correct. As soon as Salvael had left the tavern, he was followed by the young man. He managed to elude him around a corner, only to hide there until the young man came around it, then he punched him in the face. Salvael then questioned the man who confessed. He was following the lord to find out which women he preferred and report back to Lord Baelish. The depths which Lord Baelish stooped always amazed Salvael. He let the young man go and watched him run off.

Salvael paced his room nursing a swollen hand from hitting the man that spied on him. As he made another pass around the room, he thought of Finella who had informed him of potential threat. If Lord Baelish offered someone half as good as her, he would be happy.

A few minutes later there was a knock on the Lord’s door to his temporary chambers.

“Enter,” Salvael said as he stopped his pacing in the middle of the room.

“Good evening, Lord Musgood. I hope you have been enjoying your stay in King’s Landing,” Littlefinger said as he entered.

“Drop the act, Lord Baelish. I know you are well aware I know you sent one of your spies to follow me last night. I left evidence on his face,” Lord Musgood returned.

“He told me he was kicked by a horse,” Littlefinger tried to brush it off.

“Bull shit,” Lord Musgood said as he sat down. “Do you have a servant to offer me or not?”

“I have a few from which you can choose,” Littlefinger said after clearing his throat obviously bested at his own game.

“Get on with it,” Lord Musgood said pouring himself some wine.

Littlefinger went to the door and opened it. He looked through the doorway and issued one of them forward with a gesture of his hand. The first woman entered. She was young, small, and blonde.

“Close the door,” Lord Musgood commanded. Littlefinger went to shut the door. “Not you. Her.”

The young woman turned to Littlefinger who nodded his head. She did as she was told, then went to stand in front of the lord.

“What is your name?” Lord Musgood asked.

“Sarrell,” she answered.

“What did you do before you came here?” he questioned.

“I was a servant for another lord. I cleaned his house. I cooked for him. I did his laundry,” she answered diligently. Then she added with a sly smile, “I did anything he asked.”

“Really?” Lord Musgood said leaning forward in his seat with a smirk on his lips seemingly interested in that statement.

“Yes,” Sarrell said looking brighter.

“Would you like to be in my service?”

Sarrell looked him over and then answered. “Yes.”

Lord Musgood smirk quickly vanished as he leaned back in his chair and said, “Next!”

Sarrell was taken aback by Lord Musgood's sudden dismissal. Littlefinger ushered Sarrell out and beckoned the next woman to enter, a brunette with large breasts. Littlefinger looked to Salvael to gauge his reaction. There was none. Littlefinger licked his lips and swallowed hard.

“What is your name?” Lord Musgood asked again.

He asked the same questions of every woman. He went through half a dozen women with no reaction that Littlefinger could observe. 

The hand that had been poised by Salvael's lips fell lightly onto his lap as the next woman came to stand in front of him as all the others had, but her eyes remained on the floor. It took Salvael a moment to regain his thoughts and began to question her.

“What is your name?” he asked much softer than he had with the others.

“Finella, milord,” she answered. She had thought that he had forgotten her name. She let out a small sigh. 

“What did you do before you came here?” he questioned. 

Finella didn’t answer. He already knew what she did before she came to be standing in front of him. Had he forgotten that quickly, as well as her name? 

“Please, answer the question.”

“I cleaned for Marcus Olangus, proprietor of The Warm Hearth, milord,” Finella finally answered.

“Would you like to be in my services?”

“Yes, very much so, milord.”

Salvael stared at her for a moment. Finella waited for the next question with the greatest anticipation.

“Next,” Lord Musgood ordered.

Finella curtsied before turning to leave. Her head drooped as she walked out of the room. She was sure the lord was not going to choose her. She was too timid, not clean enough for a lord, and definitely not sophisticated enough for him.

Lord Musgood went through the remaining few women. When the last woman left, Littlefinger softly closed the door behind her. 

“Do you need a few minutes to decide, My Lord?” Littlefinger asked.

“No,” he answered shortly. He drank the last of his wine and stood up to join Littlefinger.

“Who do you choose?”

“The only woman who answered my questions honestly and with respect,” he returned glaring at Littlefinger. 

“Are you certain? I wasn’t impressed with her,” Littlefinger said offering his own opinion. “She may do her duties, but, as you stated, you want someone who will offer advice when sought. I don’t think she has much of an opinion to give. She’s so . . . .”

“She’s the one I want. Send her in,” Salvael commanded.

“Very well, milord,” Littlefinger said with a sigh. He turned on his heal and left the room.

Out in the hall, where the women were lined up, Littlefinger instructed Michael to take the women back to the new brothel. All except one.

“Finella, Lord Musgood has selected you to be his servant. Please go with him,” Littlefinger said gesturing for her to join Lord Musgood who was now standing in his doorway.

Finella’s heart gave a leap but her face indicated no emotion. “Yes, milord,” she said as she quickly left Littlefinger’s side.

“What do I owe you, Lord Baelish?” Lord Musgood asked.

“Let me know if she works out first. If not, you owe me nothing and you can have her beheaded for all I care,” Littlefinger said. “If she does, I’ll let you know the price. I’ll inquire in a week’s time.”

“Very well,” Salvael said with a nod.

“Good evening, Lord Musgood,” Littlefinger said as he left.

“Come, Finella. There is much we need to do to prepare for tomorrow,” Lord Musgood said.

Finella was speechless but she managed to utter, “Yes, milord,” as she curtsied and entered his chamber.


	5. Lost Child

The rest of the evening was spent packing Lord Musgood belongings. He went around telling her where things went and Finella followed every word. Soon, and in less time than he thought, all the things he wouldn’t be needing that night or the next morning were packed away. Then she prepared his bed without him saying anything after noticing him yawn. She stood waiting by the bed knowing she would have to assist him to get undressed. He hesitated a moment then went to her. As soon as he was standing in front of her, she started to unfasten his ornate leather vest but he stopped her by gently taking hold her wrists.

“Not yet,” he said. “I have a few questions to ask you.”

She gently pulled her hands away from him, letting them fall to her sides and said, “Yes, milord.” Still, and all evening, her eyes were cast down, never once looking at him.

“Before Marcus Olangus, who owned you?” he asked.

“No one, milord. I was a baker’s wife,” she answered. From her peripheral vision, Finella could see Lord Musgood contemplating what that meant.

“You’re husband sold you to Marcus Olangus?” he inquired.

“Yes, milord.”

“Why?”

Finella did not wish to answer that, so she held her tongue.

Lord Musgood took a step closer to her. He crooked his index finger under her chin and forced her head up, but her eyes remained averted from his.

“Why” he asked more insistently.

“Because my only child died, milord. And it was my fault.”

“Explain.” He let go of her chin.

Finella’s chin trembled as she began to recant the events of that day.

“I was kneading bread. My son, who was all of three years old, was at my feet playing with a little lump of dough I had given him. The door was wide open to allow customers in. Some of the king’s knights rode by on horseback in a hurry. My son loved to watch the horses. He crawled under the table and ran out the door into the street so fast, by the time I realized what he did, it was too late. There were more knights on horseback. They couldn’t stop. They didn’t stop. He was trampled by the very thing he loved. My husband blamed me for not watching him more carefully. He said I wasn’t fit to be a mother or to bear him anymore children. Marcus had come into the shop a few days after, for his daily loaves of bread and rolls. My husband went straight up to him and told him he would sell me to him for two weeks worth of bread. I was in no emotional state to protest. I went with Marcus not realizing what had actually happened until the next day. I ran back to my husband begging him to take me back, but Marcus took me back to the tavern. I never left again. I’ve been in his service ever since,” Finella explained. Tears had welled in her eyes, but not one fell. She was afraid that if they did, Lord Musgood would do what Marcus did to her for leaving.

Salvael stared at her a moment, taking in all that she had said. Then he started to unfasten his vest. She helped to take it off and laid it over a chair as he began to unfasten his trousers. Finella knelt at his feet to assist with his boots. After he stepped out of his trousers, she took them from him and laid them with the rest of his clothing. He then laid in the bed she had already turned down for him. She drew up the covers and made sure he was comfortable.

“Can I get you anything else, milord?” she asked as she went around extinguishing most of the candles and putting another log on the fire.

“No,” Lord Musgood answered as he watched her.

After she was finished with all but one candle, Finella went to the far corner where a small cot was located. It must have been brought in for his other servant. While she was putting things away earlier that evening, he had explained to her why he needed another. She put the candle in the window that was at her feet, then blew it out. Except for the glow of the fire, the room was dark. She laid on her side with her back against the wall, it was cold, but it was the only way to lay to keep her eye on the entire room. The flames of the fire danced making the shadows move about the walls. Finella was shrouded in shadow, while she could see Lord Musgood’s face peering over his blankets. He had turned onto his side. As she lay there, she watched his eyes get heavier and heavier until she heard the soft sounds of snoring. She didn’t sleep much that night and at one time got up to put another log on the fire. What she failed to notice was Lord Musgood wasn’t sleeping either, at that moment he was watching her.


	6. House Musgood

The following day, Finella was already up stoking the fire and arranging his clothing to be put back on. His boxes were piled by the door and breakfast was already on the table.

 

“Did you sleep?” Lord Musgood asked as he swung his feet over the side of the bed.

“Yes, milord,” Finella lied, somewhat. She hadn’t had a full nights sleep, maybe a few hours in entirety.

Seeing that he was awake, she fixed him a plate of breakfast. He came over and sat down at the table. She placed the plate in front of him.

“I know it’s not customary to you, but fix yourself a plate and join me,” he told her as she moved towards the bed.

“There is only one plate, milord,” she stated as she made the bed.

“Then you will share mine,” Lord Musgood said turning in his chair to look at Finella.

“Then I will eat after you, milord,” she said over her shoulder as she smoothed down the covers of the bed.

“You will do as I say. Come over here and share this plate with me,” he ordered. “I can’t eat all this alone.”

Finella pursed her lips together, then said, “Yes, milord.”

She came over and sat at the table with him. Allowing Lord Musgood the fork and knife, she took up the spoon and ate off his plate gingerly. They ate in silence for a while. Finella never over indulged herself from his plate and he took notice.

“Eat, woman. You won’t offend me,” he told her with a chuckle.

Finella placed her spoon down. “I’m not that hungry. May I be excused, milord?”

His grin faded as he said, “Er, yes, I suppose. Are my clothes ready? I’d like to get dressed now.”

“Yes, milord,” Finella answered.

They both stood up. Finella went to the chair she had draped his clothes over, and he followed. She went to get his clean shirt off the pile and turned around to hand it to him when she noticed he had already taken off his other shirt leaving him naked. She immediately cast her eyes down with a small gasp. Finella could feel the heat rush to her cheeks.

“What? Have you never seen a man naked before?” he asked after seeing her reaction.

“Yes, I have, just not yours, milord,” she said and turned around after he took the shirt from her. She smiled slightly at seeing his nakedness. Not only was he appealing to her, but he was well endowed as well. Not that she would ever come to know that part of him intimately. Her smile quickly faded.

“All right, you can turn around now,” he told her. She did and handed him his trousers.

After she helped don on the rest of his clothes, dark blue coat and cloak on top of that, he told her to tell one of his guards to fetch the carriage. The guards helped Finella load the boxes onto the carriage as Lord Musgood bid his farewell to the king, still not giving the king an answer until he had more time to contemplate the situation. Then they were on their way back to Lord Musgood’s home.

Finella was allowed to sit across from Lord Musgood in the carriage. About half way to their destination, she let out a yawn and Lord Musgood could see her eyes becoming heavy. Soon she drifted off to sleep. He watched her sleep for a while. Her head lulled to the side and her mouth hung open slightly.

Even though Finella had never been a servant to a lord before, she knew exactly what to do or caught on quickly to his instructions. He had chosen the right woman. There was more that he felt towards her that he dared not show. He had been suppressing it ever since their eyes met that one time in The Warm Hearth. To him, she was beautiful. He wanted to touch her and caress her. He knew she would deny him, turn her face from him as she had done earlier. She would never look him in the eye as his lover. Despite knowing this truth, he had to adjust the way he sat to contain his erection and sighed in frustration.

Finella woke abruptly a few hours later when the carriage went over a bump and her head hit the side of the carriage. “Please no!” she screamed out not realizing she had been dreaming and where she was currently. It took her a moment to regain herself. She cast her eyes down to her lap. “Apologies for my outburst and falling asleep. I should have been more diligent, milord.”

“It’s all right. This is a long journey for one day. I’m surprised I’m not asleep,” Lord Musgood told her. “You’ve woken just in time to see the castle come into view.”  
He pointed out the window closest to her. Perched on a grassy hilltop sat a small castle with one turret. It wasn’t much to look at and it was near impossible to see with the surrounding trees full of leaves. If it hadn’t been for the hilltop it sat on, it would not have been visible at all.

It was another hour before they actually entered the grounds and came to a stop just by the entrance. Finella hopped out immediately and went around to open Lord Musgood’s door. She held out her hand to assist him out of the carriage. Lord Musgood stared at her hand, then took it thinking these moments would be the only time she would allow him to touch her.

Finella felt his warm hand in hers, thinking almost the exact same thought, that she would only be able to touch him in small moments like these. Her eyes remained down, never looking at him. She feared she would get lost in his eyes and never look away again or, gods’ forbid, she would see anger in them.

Once he had stepped out of the carriage, she let go of his hand, not wanting to linger too long. She closed the carriage door. There were two servants already taking the boxes of belongings inside but they both stared at her. She didn't have to see them doing it. She could feel their stares boring into her. Finella then followed Lord Musgood into the castle.

Through the door there was an entrance hall which split the castle into two wings. A large woven rug of blue and yellow lay over the wooden floor to greet those who entered. A wide staircase led to the upper floor on the right side of the room. There were corridors that lead off to the left and right. The one on the left lead to the kitchen and servants' chambers. The other lead to the dining hall, gathering room, a study, and a ladies retreat.

"Ah, dinner doesn't seem to be ready yet. We'll go see how they are progressing and you can familiarize yourself with the kitchen," Salvael said peering into the dining hall.

"Yes, milord," Finella replied.

A wonderful aroma of cooking meat and herbs met their nostrils as they made their way down the corridor towards the kitchen.

"What's for dinner, Bernelle?" Lord Musgood asked the cook as soon as he saw her after entering.

"Lord Musgood? Forgive me, but I did not see you there, milord," Bernelle said wiping off her large hands on her apron and curtsying. "This evening there is rabbit and venison, potatoes, onions, carrots, and parsnips, milord."

"Sounds lovely," Lord Musgood said but could see Bernelle's eyes flicker towards Finella. "Bernelle, this is my new personal servant, Finella."

"Milord? What happened to Thoran?" Bernelle wondered.

"He had a mishap at King's Landing. He fell down some stone stairs and broke his neck," Salvael informed her.

"Oh, Gods', bless his soul," she immediately said. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Finella. I'm sure if Lord Musgood chose you, you will do just fine here. He hand selected all of us."

"Of course, ma'am," Finella said politely.

Bernelle uttered, "If you don't mind I need to get back to preparing dinner, milord."

"I look forward to it," Lord Musgood said. He, with Finella on his heels, left the kitchen.

Lord Musgood showed her the rest of the small castle. As he went around, he also went over his usual daily routine. If he traveled, she was to go with him. Finella, as usual, had little response, except for the occasional 'yes, milord.'

At dinner, Finella served him just as she had in King's Landing. Again, he offered a place at his table.

"I cannot. I am to serve you first and then partake later, milord," she told him obediently.

Lord Musgood pushed back from the high table. He wiped his mouth on his napkin and stood up. He took the plate from the place next to him and went over to the sideboard. He loaded the plate with food then returned to the place setting. Then, standing in front of Finella, said, "Sit down and eat!"

She stood her ground for a moment, not wanting to deny him but knowing it wasn't her place to be there next to him at the table. Finella was still unsure of him. She stayed on the side of caution.

"Yes, milord," she replied and sat at the table. 

This time she had her own tableware. She slowly picked up her fork and knife, then began to eat. It was delicious! It was far better than what was served at King's Landing. Finella had never had a meal like this. She wanted to scarf down every last morsel, but contained her enthusiasm over the food.

"I see you are eating better today," Lord Musgood remarked.

"Yes, milord," Finella responded. Lord Musgood put his tableware down and looked at her.

"Do you say anything other than 'yes, milord'?" he inquired.

"Yes, . . .milord," Finella said with a bit of a smile and suppressed laugh. Lord Musgood gave out a good chuckle.

"Then, please, say something else. That's all I've heard all day. Thoran would talk my ear off about the mundane things going on in the castle but at least it was much more interesting than someone agreeing with everything I say."

"I'm sorry, milord."

Lord Musgood picked up his fork and knife again. "Tell me, where did you grow up?"

"Near the Dragonpit, milord. My father was a baker."

"You grew up with a baker and then married a baker?" he asked between bites.

"Yes, milord. My father was far kinder than my husband," she stated.

"Anyone is kinder than your husband."

"No, milord. Not everyone," Finella said putting her tableware down, she had suddenly lost her appetite. Seeing that his plate was almost empty, she stood and asked, 

"May I get you more, milord?" 

"Yes, only carrots and parsnips, though," he answered. 

He wanted to ask her what she meant by that. Was there someone else in her life that could possibly have hurt her worse than her husband? The only other person it could have been was Marcus. What had he done to her to turn her so timid? Salvael could not believe she had been like this her entire life.

"Will you be having anything else, milord?" Finella asked, pulling him out of his thoughts as she set his plate down in front of him.

"No. You can start taking things back to the kitchen," he told her as he finished his carrots and parsnips.


	7. Shaded

Later, while Lord Musgood was in his study pouring over maps, the hour was getting late. He told Finella to get his bed ready for the night. She curtsied before she left the room and made her way upstairs. There was a guard standing outside Lord Musgood's chamber that had not been there earlier when the lord was showing her the rooms. She went to enter, but the guard stepped in front of the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" the guard asked in a gritty voice.

"I'm going to turn down Lord Musgood's bedding. Please let me pass," she said cautiously.

"And who are you?" the guard asked curtly.

"I am Finella, Lord Musgood's new servant," she said with reservation. She didn't like how he was glaring at her. 

"I wasn't told of any new servant. Get out of here before I run you through," the guard said pulling out his sword.

Fearing for her life and not knowing what else to do, Finella hurried back downstairs. Halfway down the stairs, she was met with Lord Musgood on the steps.

"Finella, is something wrong?" he asked.

"There is a guard that won't let me into your room, milord," she said. "Says no one told him about me."

"Damn it," Lord Musgood said with a huff and went passed Finella. "Derward!" he shouted up the stairs. The guard came right to the top of the steps.

"Yes, milord!" Derward responded quickly.

"That's what I thought," Lord Musgood said stopping on the stairs. He turned to Finella and whispered, "Not the sharpest blade amongst the swords." 

Finella cleared her throat to cover up a laugh. They continued to the top of the stairs, Derward allowed them to come up to the landing where Lord Musgood stood in front of the guardsman.

"Derward, this is Finella. She is my new personal servant. Every evening you will allow her into my chamber. If you deny her access again, I will have you thrown out. Good luck finding anyone who would hire you as a guardsmen. Understood?" Lord Musgood said.

Looking quite embarrassed, Derward replied, "Yes, milord. Apologizes, Finella."

Finella nodded her acceptance of apology. Derward went back to his post and Finella opened the door for Lord Musgood. 

After entering, she closed the door and went about turning down his bed, stoking the fire in the hearth, and lighting candles around the room. Lord Musgood sat in a chair waiting for her to finish. He watched her float around the room like a leaf on the breeze and smiled lightly. She immediately came to him when the candles were lit and started to take his boots off. She helped him out of all his clothing leaving him in his shirt alone. He went to his bed, she covered him, and asked if he needed anything else. He said there wasn't. She stoked the fire one last time and then put out all the candles but one which she took with her to light her way to the servants' quarters.

Once there, she readied herself for bed. She had been shown a cot in the large room behind the kitchens where all the servants slept. There were two rooms, one for men, and one for women. She sat on her cot with her back against the wall and listened as the women came in off their duties. Some asked who she was and others explained. There were some men who came in as well chatting and flirting with some of the women. Because of her quick observation, she recognized one of the younger men to be one of the stable hands. He came over to her, obviously drunk, and tried to flirt with her.

"Oi, you're not much to look at but I could hold onto that mane and ride you like a pony," he said laughing as he sat next to her on the bed. Others joined in on his frivolity. Finella turned her head away from him, bringing her knees to her chest. "Oh, come on, love. Loosen up! You're wound as tight as a sailor's knot. At least give me a kiss. Those lips look delicious." The young man leaned into her but Finella slapped him across the face.

"I'm old enough to be your mother. Leave me alone," Finella said blanket and leaving the room. It was getting noisy anyway. If she had to, she would sleep with the horses. At least they couldn't talk to her.

Finella went outside, blindly looking for the stables. As she crossed the courtyard, she looked up seeing the millions of twinkling little stars. The night was chilled and she had no coat, only the blanket. She wrapped it around her shoulders. Outside the gatehouse, she saw the stables off to the left. Inside, it was a bit warmer. The stone walls kept the cold night air out. The body heat of the horses kept it warmer than outside. Finella actually didn't like horses. How could she? They killed her little boy. Technically it wasn't their fault, but all the same, she didn't approach an of them. She found an empty stall. It was clean and fresh straw had been put down. Curling up in the corner and draping the blanket over herself, she waited for the hours to go by. Finella ended up falling asleep.


	8. Into the Light

One of the stable men woke Finella the next morning. Finella had only a few hours sleep, but it was better than none. Returning to the servants' quarters, she got dressed. Bernelle informed her of when breakfast would be ready and to come fetch the tray at that time. 

For the time being, she raced upstairs to tend to Lord Musgood's fire. She was sure it had gone out. This time, Derward let her pass without any incident. She went straight in and knelt by the hearth. There were still come coals left. She placed some wood on top of them and gently blew on the coals. It took a few moments, but soon there was a blazing fire.

Finella stood up and tidied up the room. She made sure his clothes were airing out and took out a clean shirt for him. Ever so often, she would glance at him to see if he was awake. He was still asleep. When she was finished, with nothing else to do, she quietly went over to his bedside. For once, she could gaze at him with no repercussions. Others may not have found him attractive but his square jaw and long face were very handsome to her. His lips were thin but appeared to be supple. Wrinkles were starting to show and the skin sagged just a bit. That didn't matter to her. All she wanted to do was reach out and touch his cheek but knew he would wake. She sighed heavily and went to look out the window. By the rise of the sun, it was nearly time for breakfast. Finella quietly left the room.

Hearing the door close, Salvael slowly opened his eyes and glanced towards the door. He had been awake for some time, cracking his eyes open to watch her move about the room. Each time she looked his way, he would shut his eyes again. When he closed his eyes that last time, he knew her to be standing over him, gazing upon him. He could feel her warm breath on his face, hear her sigh. But why? Ever since he met her, she never looked directly at him. Was it her shyness, or something else? He threw off his covers and sat up. A robe was draped at the foot of his bed. He stood and put it on, then went to the window to he wait for her return.  
When Finella entered, her gaze went straight to his bed. Not seeing him there, she seemed slightly alarmed and glanced around the room. As soon as her eyes fell on him, her head went down.

"Good morning, milord," Finella said as she brought the tray over to his table.

"Good morning, Finella. I hope you slept well," Lord Musgood returned.

Finella hesitated, then said, "I did, milord."

Lord Musgood's incredulous look was on her as he left the window and sat at the table. "Do you honestly take me for a fool?" he asked.

"I don't know what you mean, milord," she said.

"I see the dark circles under your eyes. You haven't slept well at all. I guess getting use to new surroundings takes some time. I suspect you'll be sleeping soundly in about a week’s time," he stated.

"Perhaps, milord." Finella set the plate of food in front of him. She didn't want to sleep in that room with all those people. At least at The Warm Hearth it was just a few women in the same room. Here, there were much more. They were noisy and loud. She rarely made friends with anyone. Although, Bernelle, the cook, a rather large women, seemed to be all right by her. 

Lord Musgood looked at his plate, then looked around at the empty place at the table. Finella stood to the side.

"Where is your plate?" Lord Musgood asked picking up his cup of water to drink.

"I told Bernelle I would eat after you in the kitchen," Finella told him. "I would have eaten earlier, but, uh, I stoked your fire."

Lord Musgood had to catch himself from choking on his water, his mind slipping on the double entendre. He slowly put the cup down. Then he sighed heavily. "You are my personal servant. I have no other living relative in this house. You are to dine with me at every meal. Is that clear?" Lord Musgood informed Finella.

"Yes, milord," Finella answered feeling the heat of embarrassment rise into her cheeks.

"I will let it pass this time. I expect you to take dinner and supper with me, and every meal from now on," he said as he picked up his fork.

"Yes, milord," she said barely audible.

There was still so much for Finella to learn about being Lord Salvael Musgood's personal servant. He seemed to be fair and everyone seemed to be happy, but she had seen it before. One moment, her master was pleased with her, allowed one or two mishaps, but the next time she didn't do something precisely right, a hand came down on her. Every moment, she waited for Lord Musgood to strike her. She knew it was inevitable. 

Finella assisted with his clothes. Then she returned his breakfast dishes to the kitchen. The kitchen was bustling with beginning preparations for dinner and washing up the dishes from breakfast. She grabbed a roll and a cup of water as her own breakfast.

"Is that all you're going to eat, Finny?" Bernelle asked her. Finella smiled.

"Finny. I like that. And yes, this will be all. I don't have time for anything else," she told Bernelle. "I need to get back to Lord Musgood as soon as I can. I mustn't keep him waiting."

"Here. At least have a sausage," she said handing Finella a plate. "It's leftover anyway, from the guards."

"Thank you," Finella said as she sat in a window to eat. 

After her breakfast, Finella went into Lord Musgood's study. He had showed her around the inside of the castle, now it was time to show her the grounds. It was a pleasant enough day for a stroll. Lord Musgood led Finella into the courtyard. There were small gardens of herbs and some flowers near the kitchen. There was a separate entrance for the small chapel of the Seven Gods. Across from the main entrance were the guards' quarters. 

There was still some time before the midday meal. Lord Musgood retreated to his study with Finella at his heels. He had correspondence to write. As he sat at his desk, Finella diligently stood behind him against the wall.

"Is that the only dress you have?" Lord Musgood asked as he kept writing his letter. Until then, the only sound had been his quill on the parchment.

"Yes, milord," Finella answered.

"I'll have to get you more dresses. You'll be seen with me often. I want you looking respectable," he told her.

"Yes, milord."

He went back to his writing for a while, finishing the one he was on and handing it to Finella. Her task was to seal the scrolls then place them back on the desk ready for delivery. 

"Do you know how to read?" he asked her as she went back to her position against the wall. 

"No, milord," Finella replied as she stared at the back of his head wondering what it would be like to run her fingers through his thick tresses.

Turning around in his seat, she immediately looked down at the floor. Gazing at her, he said, "Would you like to learn to read?"

Indeed, Finella would! But she had heard rumors of servants who knew how to read being accused by their masters of intercepting letters, cheating them out of money, and other causes to be sold or even put to death, even though the servant had done nothing.

Lord Musgood rose from his seat and approached her. Staring at her with a furrowed brow, he asked again, "Would you like to learn to read?"

Again, Finella did not know how to respond. 

Lord Musgood sighed. "Why won't you answer?" he asked gently, hoping she would finally speak, but she remained silent with her eyes forever on the floor. "Will you at least look at me?"

"No, milord," Finella replied. She swallowed hard.

"Why not?"

Silence. Lord Musgood cupped her head and lifted it to face him. Finella still averted her eyes.

"Why not?" he asked more firmly.

Finally, giving in before he hurt her, she answered briskly, "Because I am not worthy. You are far too noble and lovely for me to even look in your eyes for a second. I am only a poor servant woman." She let out a soft whimper.

"Look at me," he said slowly and softly.

Reluctantly, Finella looked at him, her chin was trembling with fear. When their eyes met, his were kind and bright. A small smile graced his lips. In that moment, she knew he wouldn't hurt her, so she sighed out in relief.

"You are no better than me. We are both human beings. I just happened to be born with a certain name, and you were not," he simply said, letting go of her. This time, Finella did not gaze at the floor. "I know what your husband did to you. I can only presume Marcus did the same. Finella, I will not hurt you."

"That's what Marcus used to say. He said he wouldn't hurt me, that I only hurt myself when I didn't do what he wanted," she told Lord Musgood. 

"You've learned to be quiet, stay in the shadows, and do things precisely as you're told, If you did not, you were punished," Lord Musgood gathered. "No more. I want you to speak your mind. I don't care how mundane it seems. I want you sitting beside me at the table or standing near me. No more dark corners. I don't care if you spill wine fifty times, at least you are trying. Well, not the good wine." He smirked.

It was the first time Salvael saw her smile.


	9. A Taste to Remember

By the end of the week, things were less tense between Salvael and Finella. She was asking him all sorts of inquiries about the castle grounds and his past. Gradually, she answered his questions about herself as well.

Even the other servants were regarding her with more respect, especially with Bernelle on her side. No one crossed Bernelle or they wouldn't eat as well as everyone else. After Finella's first breakfast in the kitchen, they had become friends.

That morning, after coming in from sleeping in the stables, Finella asked if she could have a few ingredients and help make the rolls for that day. It was something she had learned from her father to make them a bit tastier and unique to his bakery. She told Bernelle it was something she wanted to do for Lord Musgood to thank him for his patience with her.

That afternoon, at dinner, Finella waited with anticipation for Lord Musgood to eat his roll. When he did, she held her breath. He took a bite and stopped.

"What is this?," he said under his breath. "I've tasted this before."

"Is there something wrong, milord?" Finella asked, wanting to know how he liked it.

"It's just . . . I didn't hire a new baker. Where did these rolls come from?" Lord Musgood said.

"I made them," she said with a small smile.

He raised his eyebrows and said, "You?"

"Mmhmm, my father taught me."

"I remember these rolls when I was a young man. They were my favorite when I was in King's Landing. My mother would take me to the baker who made them. He had . . . a daughter . . . . You have to excuse me, " Lord Musgood said standing from the table and walking briskly away.

Not knowing whether his abrupt exit was a good sign or not, Finella followed him out of the dining hall. She went to his study thinking he had gone there, but he wasn't. She went to the kitchen, gathering room, the courtyard and the grounds, there was no sign of him. Now, she was panicking. Maybe the rolls had made him sick. Climbing the stairs, she went to his bedroom again. Empty.

Finella went back to the dining hall to help take away the dishes the guards had left behind.

When she walked into the kitchen, Bernelle immediately asked, "You were in and out of here in such a flash I couldn't ask you, how did Lord Musgood like the rolls?"

Finella shrugged and gazed at the floor.

"Oh, no. He didn't like them?"

"I don't know. He left the dining hall abruptly after tasting one," she said sitting down on the sill of her usual window.

"Pfft, I don't care what he thinks. I think they are lovely," Bernelle said biting a huge chunk out of one as she straightened up her work space getting ready for supper. "What's the secret to these rolls?"

Finella didn't answer, but meandered out of the kitchen in a daze.

"Finny?"

She kept walking out of the castle and to the stables where she stayed the rest of the afternoon until Bernelle came out to feed the horses a few apples. The stable hands were used to Finella being there but it was the first time Bernelle saw her. Finella had heard her and slowly stood up to see who was there.

"Mother of the gods! Finny, you gave me a fright. What are you doing here? We've done had supper. Why aren't you with Lord Musgood?" Bernelle rambled.

"I don't think Lord Musgood wants me anymore," she replied warily. 

"Oh, hogwash! Get in there and tend to his lordship, or he will get rid of you," Bernelle said pulling her out of the stall. Distant thunder rumbled and the wind was starting to get blustery. "Go on! Get, before it starts to rain!"

"All right, I'm going," Finella said but was in no hurry to get back to Lord Musgood.

It was near the lord's bed time. Finella went to his room. She must have been early, Derward wasn't at his post yet. Walking in, a flash of lightning lit up the room. Finella gasped. Salvael was sitting at his table in complete darkness. Breathing in relief that it was only him, she went over to the hearth. There were still some hot coals on the bottom. Taking a taper, she lit the wick on the coals, and from that candle, she lit others.

"Lord Musgood?" Finella said quietly as she approached him. He slowly turned his head towards her.

"Finella? Where have you been?" he questioned faintly.

"I thought you were upset with me. I was . . .," she replied but he interrupted her.

"Never. I could never be upset with you. The roll, it was - delightful. It brought back many memories. That's all," he explained gazing towards the window again. His voice was barely above a whisper. The time between thunder and lightning was getting closer. The storm was fast approaching.

"All right. I'll just tend to your fire and turn down your bed," she said. He merely nodded.

Finella saw the distance in his eyes. There was something else bothering him but she didn't know what it could be and didn't have the nerve to ask him. She went about doing as she said.

"Do you need help with your clothes, milord?" she asked timidly.

"I can manage. You can go. I'll see you in the morning," he instructed her.

"Very well, milord," she said curtsying and then leaving the room.

The wind had picked up tossing Finella's hair around as she walked to the stables. Leaves and twigs flew around on the gusts. She looked up to see the blackened sky avoid of stars or moon. Lightning lit up her path. This region was called Stormlands for a reason. 

Once inside the stables, she noticed the horses were agitated by the storm. She tried to calm them down but she was only one person. She would have to return to the castle to get the stable hands. As she was leaving the stable, a loud clap of thunder frightened one of the horses. It kicked open its stall door hitting Finella and tossing her into the stone wall head first. Finella immediately blacked out.


	10. Veiled Yearning

A rumble of thunder woke Salvael in the night. The rain was pummeling the windows. The fire in his hearth was dangerously low and he was getting chilled. He went to the door.

"Derward, get Finella from the servants' quarters, please," Lord Musgood told the guard.

"Yes, milord," Derward said and left his post.

As the lord waited, he relieved himself into the chamber pot, then warmed himself by what was left of the fire. A few minutes went by with no sign of Finella, or Derward. Salvael put on his trousers, threw on his jacket for warmth, and slipped on his fur slippers. He made his way downstairs when the door burst open as he neared the bottom. Derward and Branneth, both guardsmen, carried Finella's wet body inside. Her head was bloody.

"What happened? Why was she outside?" the lord asked frantically.

"Don't know. Found her in the stables on Bernelle's suggestion. She said Finella goes there often. It looks like one of the horses got spooked, kicked open its door, and she hit her head on the wall," Derward informed his lordship.

Branneth and Derward were making their way back towards the servants' quarters.

"No! Take her upstairs," Lord Musgood ordered. The two guardsmen looked at one another. "Now!"

"Yes, milord," Branneth said as they turned their direction towards the stairs.

Once upstairs, Salvael instructed them to put her into the room across from his. Then he turned to Branneth and shouted, "Fetch the maester!" Then he rounded on Derward and yelled, "Get me a bowl of warm water and a cloth!"

Both guards forewent formalities and left the room swiftly. Salvael ripped off a portion of his shirt at the hem. He folded it over and held it to the bloodiest part of Finella's head trying to alleviate the bleeding. Branneth was the first to return with the maester. Maester Josen took one glance at Finella and began to examine the woman.

Maester Josen appeared to be in his late forties with fading red hair with an equally fading red beard. He had a round belly and stood as tall as Lord Musgood. His thick hands were gentle on his subject.

"Skull isn't broken, which is good. I can't see much else with all this blood," Maester Josen said trying to use the impromptu bandage to wipe some of the blood away.

"Where is that boy with the water? Go find out what is taking Derward so long," Lord Musgood told Branneth.

"Yes, milord."

He didn't get far. Derward came into the room at that moment with a deep bowl of steaming water. Maester Josen pointed to the bedside table and Derward set it there. He pulled a cloth from his belt.

"Thank you, now everyone, out," Maester Josen said as he took the improvised bandage off of the wound. 

"I'm not leaving her," Lord Musgood said moving to the other side of the bed. He took Finella's hand into his and knelt beside her. The concern in the lord's eyes was not that of a master to his servant, but one of ardor. The Maester gestured to the guardsmen to leave.

"My Lord," Maester Josen said after the guards had left. Salvael looked up at the maester hoping he had good news to tell him. Maester Josen only peered at Salvael with unease.

"Shut up and make her well again," Lord Musgood said firmly.

The Maester held his tongue for the moment as he dipped the cloth into the water and rung it out. As he wiped away the blood as he spoke.

"Salvael, this isn't right," he voiced. "She is a servant, barely in your charge, what, a week?" He rung out the cloth in the water again. "Did you already have relations with this woman? Is that the real reason you bought her?"

"No. Of course not!" Salvael snapped. "I would never take advantage of a woman like that. Have you known me to do otherwise?"

"No, and I'm relieved that hasn't changed," the maester said more calmly. He continued to wipe the blood from Finella's head until he could see her injury better. "It's just a deep cut. It's going to need stitching. Keep this cloth on her head while I get what I need."

Salvael pressed the cloth to the cut on Finella's head. His eyes never wavered from her as the maester left the room. He sat there with the din of the storm in the background, and the thoughts of her racing through his head. The moment the maester addressed Salvael's unconventional affection for Finella, Salvael realized he had fallen in love with her. Gently, he kissed the back of her hand.

"Please get better, Finella," he begged as he pressed the back of her hand against his cheek. 

Maester Josen returned. He spread his accoutrements out on the bed beside her and began to stitch her head wound. Salvael remained on the other side of the bed, still holding Finella's hand. Maester Josen eyed Salvael.

"Salvael, you and I know this, whatever this is, cannot work," the maester tried to put to him gently. "You need to marry someone of nobility, not of nothingness."

"I had nobility. She died," he spat. "Why can't I, for once in my life, follow my heart?"

"Unfortunately, for you, you were not born with that privilege," the maester reminded the lord.

"There are no noble women interested in marrying an older man like me. People like me are ushering their children to marry into other noble families. I have no one to marry off. My three sons went off to war and were returned to me in boxes. For once, I want to be happy. If she makes me happy, so be it. Is that so difficult to understand?" Salvael seethed.

"No, My Lord," Maester Josen said. He finished stitching Finella and added a healing salve to the wound. "She'll need rest now, My Lord. You should get some rest as well."  
Lord Musgood did not move.

"I'll come back in the morning to see how she is faring," Maester Josen informed him. He gathered up his supplies and went to leave. At the door he said, "Salvael, I highly advise against any relationship with this woman."

"I appreciate your consultation, Maester. I will give it some thought."

Maester Josen nodded and left the room.


	11. The Light

Just after the maester left, Salvael had Derward bring Bernelle to the room to help him undress Finella and get her into a dry shift. They had removed her dress and corset. Now, they were working to take off her damp shift.

"Be careful of her head," Lord Musgood told Bernelle.

"Don't you worry, milord, I treat her like a porcelain doll. You concentrate on getting that arm out of the sleeve," Bernelle said.

Bernelle had shimmied Finella's shift up to her hips. Salvael looked away as the cook moved the shift further up Finella's torso. Bernelle started to chuckle.

"You act like you've never seen a naked woman before, milord," she said as she carefully removed the shift passed Finella's head.

"I have, just not hers," he said softly. "How did you know she would be in the stables?" he asked, changing the subject.

Bernelle breathed out through her nose. "She's been going there every night, claiming the servants' chambers are too noisy. Finny's not like them." Bernelle carefully put the clean shift over Finella's head and pulled it down over her body. "Could you get that arm into the sleeve, milord?"

"Of course," Salvael said. "What do you mean she's not like them?"

"She's not as obnoxious as they are when they all get together. Finny is more reserved, guarded, and, well, more noble, milord," Bernelle replied. She pulled the covers up to Finella's chin.

Salvael finally was able to gaze down at Finella looking pale and fragile as the porcelain doll Bernelle had mentioned. He put his hand on her shoulder, tenderly caressing it.

"She's never said one unkind word against you, milord. I can't say that of Thoran. He divulged things that I know he shouldn't have. Finella is . . . perfect for you, milord," Bernelle said standing across the bed from him with her hands clasped in front of her giving him a knowing gaze. "She made those rolls especially for you, to thank you for being kind to her. She holds you in high regard. I can see you hold her in a higher position above us all. I don't blame you, milord. She is a lovely lady."

"Is it that obvious?" he said as he knelt by the bed and held her hand again, giving into his feelings in front of Bernelle.

"It has been ever since you brought her home, milord."

"Do you think she feels the same towards me?" 

"If she does, she has yet to tell me. Then again, she hasn't told me much about herself. It's been mostly about baking with her father," Bernelle revealed. She moved towards the door. "To answer your question, I think she does, but don't take my word for it. Ask her yourself, milord." Salvael watched the door shut behind Bernelle.

There was a table and chairs in the room. Salvael got up off his knees, that were becoming sore from the wooden floor, and he pulled a chair over to the side of the bed where he sat watching over Finella. There was something about this woman. He had fallen in love with her once before, years ago, in her father's bakery. How small a world it was, where they should meet again and he still feel the same about her.


	12. Dreaming

"Are we going to the baker's today, mother?" a young man of fifteen asked.

"Yes," his mother answered. The young man with dark locks smiled.

~~~~~

"Are we going to the baker's today, mother?" a young man of eighteen asked.

His mother gave him a peculiar look. "You ask that every time we come to King's Landing."

The young man blushed. "Oh, but they have the best rolls and pastries that I've ever tasted."

"True," his mother agreed. "You know, I once asked your father to hire the baker, but your father refused. Said he didn't want to have to drag his whole family to the castle. Come to think, I believe it is just him and his daughter."

"So can we go?" he asked again. His mother chuckled.

"Of course."

~~~~~

"Come to get your usual, Lady Musgood," Henin asked seeing the lady and the young lord come into his bakery.

"Yes, Henin, thank you," the lady returned.

"I'll return shortly, milady," he said, then disappeared through a doorway.

As they waited a young girl's head with bright red hair peeked around the doorway to the kitchen behind the counter. The young lord's face lit up. The girl smiled coyly. Noticing the girl gazing, Lady Musgood looked at her son.

"Salvael, she's half your age and not of noble birth. Put your eyes back in your head," his mother scolded quietly.

"Yes, mother," he said gazing down. When his mother turned to look at a shelf of loaves of bread, he peered at the young girl and gave her a small wave.

"Salvael!" his mother snapped at him.

"I was just. . . .,"

"Salvael!

~~~~~

A hand shook Salvael's shoulder and he woke abruptly from the dream. He gasped as he gazed up at the large figure before him.

"Salvael," Maester Josen said again as he had been trying to wake the lord. 

Salvael finally focused on the healer, but then looked passed him to Finella. She was still unconscious. He sighed.

"You should return to your chamber, My Lord," Maester Josen suggested. "It is still early enough that no one will notice." He went to look at Finella's bandage.

"I have nothing to be ashamed of being here," Salvael said. He rubbed the sleep from his face and ground it out of his eyes. 

"I stand by what I said last night, Salvael," Josen said as he gently cleaned around the wound and put more healing salve on it. "You're lands are small. You have a small army of guards that would do well to protect this castle, but nothing else. You need a noble woman who can offer you more. Especially if there is to be war."

"Can we not talk about this right now?" Salvael said heatedly. "All I want to know is if Finella will live? When will she wake up? How long will it take her wound to heal? Can you answer me any of that?"

Josen glared at Salvael before he answered. "She'll live. Most likely, a very long life. She should wake some time today, but she should remain in bed for a few more days. It will take her a few weeks to heal, then I will remove the stitching. She will be left with a scar on her head," he replied with calm fervor. "I hope I have answered you adequately."

"Thank you," Salvael returned. 

He watched the maester replace the cloth bandage on Finella's forehead, then Salvael opened the door for Maester Josen to exit. Josen took the hint as he closed his satchel. 

"I know you mean well, old friend, but I must decide this on my own." Salvael spoke plainly.

Josen nodded and left. Salvael closed the door quietly behind him, then gazed at Finella once more.

The reality of the situation was hitting Salvael hard. He wanted to pursue this love, but the words Josen had uttered were true. Nothing good would become of it. If war were to rain down on his meager lands, he would barely survive, if he survived at all. He would send up one of the other servants to watch over Finella later and try to put her from his mind.


	13. Unveiled

As the next few weeks went on, Finella and Salvael settled into an acquiescent routine. They moved about each other as if they were one being. Bernelle would watch them move about the courtyard from her window in the kitchen and smile. Whereas, Maester Josen still condoned their closeness. Salvael had not revealed his true feelings to Finella and made sure their relationship stayed as it had been. 

One evening, Salvael had a bit too much to drink while telling stories to the guardsmen of his earlier years when he went to war beside his father. They were mostly anecdotes of him blundering a formation (but luckily his father discovered it or they would have lost many more soldiers than they did) or his squire putting his armor on backwards. Finella finally insisted that he had enough and should retire to his room. He managed to walk on his own two feet, but he could not manage a straight line or fare the stairs very well. Finella had him lean on her as she guided him to his room. She sat him in his chair and started to remove his boots.

Salvael stared down at her with the most disconcerting gaze. Finella took notice. She smirked and shook her head.

"Is something wrong, milord?" she asked as she slipped off his left boot.

Slowly, he shook his head and said in an alcohol induced slurred voice, "I have loved you since you were a little girl. The first time I saw you, you were five years old."

"That's impossible, you didn't know me when I was five years old," she said wrenching off his right boot.

"No, no, it's true. So true. You were in your father's shop playing with a cup full of barley flour. You asked me if I wanted a biscuit that your father allowed for me to have. You even curtsied after I took it from you," he reminisced as she pulled him to his feet. Salvael swayed for a moment but remained standing as long as he didn't move.

Finella thought for a moment as she started to unbutton his coat. There was a time when a boy, older than she, came in with his mother. The way they were dressed, she supposed they were nobility. That's why she curtsied. It couldn't have been him.

"I still don't believe you," she said. Slipping the coat off his shoulders, she worked on unfastening his waistcoat. "Prove it. Tell me something about my father's shop that only someone would know if they entered. Or tell me his name. Or . . . . "

"Henin. Your father's name was Henin. When you walked into the shop, there was a counter and . . . and there were shelves behind it that held bread. And the scent on the rolls, my mother told me, it was rose," Salvael blurted out. "The first time I saw you, I only thought I liked you because you were a cute little girl. But each time I returned, you were turning into a beautiful woman."

Finella had stopped unbuttoning his waistcoat and stared at him in disbelief. Lord Musgood was the young lord that visited the bakery. She always had a fondness for him as well. One time after he left, she pretended she was betrothed to him. She danced around the bakery as she told her father she needed the biggest cake for a wedding feast she and her little lord were having with all their friends. Her father asked if he was invited to the wedding, and she said that he had to be there to give her away. Her father scooped her into his arms and said he would never give her away. She laughed and then asked if she could actually marry a lord. Her father said "Maybe, one day." Deep down inside, Finella knew her father was protecting her from the harsh realities of class restrictions. There were known marriages of nobles to someone of lower stature, but it didn't last long or they were shunned from the noble family. Now, here she stood in front of the one she thought she could marry all those years ago with him confessing his love for her. How fate loved to slap her in the face. She shook her head in disbelief.

Finella went to take a step back away from him, to return to her own chamber, when Salvael took hold of her arms, pulled her towards him, and kissed her. At first, she struggled against him, but his kiss was tender, nothing like she had experienced before. Her husband's kisses were hard and unfeeling. Salvael's hands cupped her face keeping her to him until she squirmed out of his grasp.

"We shouldn't," she said licking her lips and tasting the wine he had drank. Finella took a few steps away from him.

"We can do anything we want," he told her taking a step closer.

"No, we can't," she said breathlessly.

"We can do anything we want in this room. No one needs to know."

"Don't you think Derward is listening at the door? You don't think he'd hear our noises?" she whispered turning her head towards the door as if Derward was standing in the doorway. "He would listen. He would tell someone." She faced Salvael. "The rumor would spread like wildfire. Your reputation would be ruined and I would be mocked in the streets. It only takes one person to hear it, see it, tell it. I should know, it's what I did for a living. I heard it, saw it, but I never told a soul. I have kept secrets of lords, kings, and even queens that would destroy them in an instant. I won't have that happen to you because I love you too much. You are too good and just. And drunk." She gave him a slight shove.

"Did you just say you loved me?"

She didn't answer him. He moved towards her until there was barely any space between them and she could smell the wine on his breath.

"Do you love me?" he asked in a deep voice as he lightly gripped her shoulders.

She gazed into his eyes, her mouth slightly ajar, her mind told her to tell the truth. "Yes," Finella breathed out.

Salvael pressed his lips against hers. Finella's hands pressed against his chest. He felt her return his kiss. His waistcoat was still half unbuttoned, her fingers found where she had left off and continued to undress him. He sighed out through his nose as his own hands found the laces that secured her dress. As he pulled on the lace, she let out a whimper. He smiled into their kiss as his hands opened the dress and went to her waist. Hearing her giggle delighted him as they briefly parted their kiss to remove his waistcoat and her dress. He watched her begin to untie her corset, but quickly stopped her. He smirked as he shook her head and knelt in front of her. Taking the end of the ribbon in his mouth, he pulled it. Using his teeth, he unlaced the corset. A blush rose in her cheeks, making her glow all the more. He moaned as he pulled the last of the lace free off the eyelets. Staring up at her, his hands caressed her exposed legs.

Now, only in her shift, Finella ran her fingers through Salvael's thick graying tresses as she had fantasized a thousand times. It was far better than she had ever imagined. He kissed her stomach through her shift. Then he stood and started to unfasten his trousers. She went to his bed and turned down the covers. After removing her shift, she sat on the edge, she waited until he came to her. She gazed upon his body, the thought of them being joined quickened her breathing. Hadn't she wished to touch his manhood the first day she came to the castle? Here they were about to be as intimate as she had imagined. 

She went to move farther onto the bed, but he grabbed her hand and placed it on his cock. She inhaled quickly having never held one before. The skin was far softer than she thought. Her fingertips explored the ridges of veins along it. Now she could fully see why some women referred to it as the 'one eyed serpent.' She let out a little laugh. He looked down at her curiously.

"Sorry, milord," she said.

"I'm not your lord tonight. Call me Salvael," he said running his fingers through her red locks. "What's so amusing?" There was still a slight slur to his speech.

Finella smiled again and snuffed a chuckle. "I've never seen one up close."

"Not even your husband's?"

"No. It was often in the dark and more for his enjoyment than mine," she confessed as she traced a finger underneath the length of his shaft.

"Lay down," he told her.

She did as he said, laying her head on the pillows that had his scent, as he pulled the covers further down until they were at the foot of the bed. Feeling a bit insecure without the protection of the covers, Finella pulled her knees up and watched as he moved onto the bed with her.

He gently pried her legs apart, he could feel her resistance. "You need to relax," he told her as he kissed her kneecaps. She nodded vigorously, then sighed, letting her hands fall to the bed by her sides. They had been clutching her naked breasts. Salvael crawled up her body and hovered above her staring down at her.

"Finella, I'm not going to hurt you and if at any moment something I do does hurt, stop me," he said tenderly.

Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, she nodded more slowly this time. A kind smile graced his lips and then he leaned in to kiss her passionately. She sighed out through her nose and gently wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down on her.

He moaned at their bodies touched. Tilting his head to deepen their kiss, opening his mouth wider to explore her mouth with his tongue, when she immediately stopped him.

"What was that?" she said alarmed.

"My tongue," he replied in disbelief. "You've never kissed with tongue?"

Finella turned beet red and shook her head.

"What did you and your husband do during sex?"

"He . . . you know, and we kissed a bit."

"That's it?" he asked incredulously. Again, she nodded. "Tonight, you going to be treated like a woman and not an object."

Salvael kissed her chest, between her breasts, and her stomach to the apex of her thighs. Wedging himself between her legs, he thumbed her thick red hair away from her opening. He could hear her breath quickening.

Finella didn't know what he was doing but it was making her nervous. Staring at the ceiling, she gradually closed her eyes, hoping that whatever he was doing wouldn't take long. Her husband was usually quick when they had sex. It was never love making. It was never enjoyable for her. When Salvael's warm tongue lapped at her, she held her breath and pressed her head further back into the pillows. As he continued, a sensation she had never felt before washed over her, a surging tingle went through her body, and she let go of her breath. She felt the vibration of his hum of delight as he licked whatever it was that made her feel like she was floating above the bed.

The reasoning for her ignorance was that she had been secluded for most of her life. She was often kept busy at the bakery to avoid contact with customers. Occasionally she would catch a glimpse of one or two, but she never spoke with them, except for her little lord. When she went out with her father, she often saw people whispering and talking. She was curious as to what they were talking about. That was when she started to steal into shadows to hear people talk, to understand what was going on around her even if she wasn't allowed to see it. She overheard conversations of theft or bribery, scandal amongst the lords, and sex from young girls married off, but never understood the terms they used, like the 'one eyed serpent'. Now, Salvael was putting meaning to all the secretive conversations she had heard, at least the ones pertaining to sex.

He rolled his tongue around and Finella whimpered when the feeling became intense. Her hands gripped the sheets and she pinched her eyes shut. 

Thinking he had hurt her, Salvael stopped.

"Don't stop," she barely uttered.

Salvael grinned and pressed his tongue in her folds again. The tip of his tongue ran over her clitoris again and again. Her groans became more frequent and he knew she was close. 

What was this new sensation she was feeling? Was she about to physically explode? She didn't care. It felt heavenly and she wanted more. Her hands went down to his head gripping his tresses as he lovely tended to her. She felt herself relax a little more and when she did, the wave came. She whimpered as her back arched and her hands clenched in his hair. Finella had never felt this before and whined as it subsided.

Her grip finally eased and he was able lean back onto his knees. As he gazed at her breathing heavily, he wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand. He crawled over her again, this time stopping at her breasts. Gently cupping one, he took her nipple into his mouth. Slowly, he rolled his tongue around it.

"Oh, gods," she uttered faintly. Finella looked down at him and watched how delicately as he regarded her. When he saw her peering at him, he started kissing up her chest. She didn't want him to stop, but she also wanted to know what other surprising things he was going to do to her.

"All right?" he inquired.

"Wonderful," she whispered.

She felt his knee press against her thigh hitching it up and another on the other side. Then he was there, pressed against her opening. He eased himself into her, unlike her husband who was forceful. When he stopped, they lay there adjusting to each other. He kissed along her jaw and neck.

Salvael leaned back to gaze at Finella as he began his slow strokes. Her hand reached up to touch his cheek. For a brief second, he looked at her with pity. How could anyone use someone so sweet? Since he had known her, even as a child, he had never known her to raise her voice, or even get angry. She was even tempered. Presently, she let out a moan. He leaned over and began to kiss her neck as he continued his steady rhythm. Finella's skin was soft against his lips, his stomach, and his legs. Salvael kissed down her neck to her smooth shoulder and then down to her breast. Taking it into his mouth, he rolled his tongue over her nipple as he had done with the other one. He heard her inhale suddenly.

Finella's husband had never been as tender as Salvael was being with her. He was usually forceful and rough. It left her numb and sore. This, what Salvael was doing, was loving. She honestly could tell he loved her. Wanting to return the same feeling towards him, she moved her hips against his strokes and ran her fingers through his hair. 

Salvael picked up his pace and leaned back slightly to peer into her eyes. They never broke their gaze on each other. There was no reason to shut his eyes, no other woman he wanted to envision, only her. She was all he wanted. Sooner than he wanted, he felt himself crossover to that sensation where he could not stop himself if he wanted. He gave her a few good thrusts more and held onto her tightly as the intense feeling peaked and fell over the edge. He cried out, not having made love like this. It was new to him as well.

Finella felt him throb inside her. She held onto him, caressing his head and back. His body was damp with perspiration. As his body began to relax, he rolled off her and laid on his side still not taking his eyes off her. Her eyes followed him.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked as he laid beside her.

"No," she answered quickly as she turned to lay on her side as well. "It was delightful."

"Good," he said smiling. "But you didn't come a second time, when we made love?"

"That intense feeling?" she wondered and he nodded. "No. Was I suppose to? I felt myself getting close but you stopped too soon."

"It's all right. You don't have to," he said with a slight laugh. He brushed back some of her hair from her face and kissed her forehead. "I was just curious. We'll work on it, coming together."

"You want to do this again?" she asked. The only reason she thought he made love to her was because he was drunk.

"Again," he said as he kissed her neck and wrapped and arm around her waist. "And again, and again."

He lightly caressed her back, when he felt the ridges. His brow furrowed slightly in curiosity pulling back from her. He glanced over her shoulder. "Finella!" Pulling her onto her stomach, he examined her back. There was a criss-cross pattern of angry pink lines, scars made by a whip.

"Oh, Finella," he said softly as his fingers lightly touched a rather long scar.

Finella laid there quietly. It was the first time anyone, other than the creator, had seen her scars. When the marks were created, she would bathe herself to wash off the blood, staying up half the night to do so until the bleeding would stop. Eventually, she had created back coverings to wear so that she wouldn't ruin her dress with blood stains. 

"Who did this to you?" he asked but already having an idea.

"Marcus," she said with her head turned to the side on the pillow. "My husband only left bruises. They don't leave scars." As much of a gruesome sight as it must be to him, she thought, his finger touch felt nice. She felt him pull on her shoulder to get her to turn over again. He had the saddest look in his eyes. "Don't. Please don't pity me. Those marks led me to you. If I hadn't learned to obey his every word, if I hadn't been intent on informing you of the watcher, then, I would still be with him getting beaten. Instead, I'm here with you," she said and touched his cheek. "You, who is kind and gentle." 

Salvael took her hand away from his face and slipped out of bed to cross the room to the table. There was a jug of wine and two cups. He poured wine into one of them and gulped it down.

Finella leaned up on her elbows and looked over at him smirking. "Don't you think you've had enough wine tonight?"

He set the cup down and spoke over his shoulder. "Not enough to rid my mind of all the harshness you have been through. Those men shall pay for their transgressions."

She didn't know what to say. No one had ever been so concerned about her. Curling up on her side, she watched him drink another cup of wine. Because of their interlude, she was tired. Soon her eyes grew heavy and she fell asleep.


	14. The Lady

The sun was still below the horizon but the sky was turning from black to purple with a stripe of orange at the Earth's crust. That's when Finella woke. She stared at Salvael still sleeping. He had given her a night she would never forget. Yet, now, she had to pretend it never happened. She went from lover back to servant in an instant. Cautiously, she removed herself from the bed, not wanting to wake him. As she got dressed, she wondered how much of last night the lord would remember. It was definitely going to be an awkward conversation.

After placing another log on the fire, she glanced over to the bed to see if Salvael was still asleep. He was. She let him sleep while she went down to the kitchens and told Bernelle to fix him something after a night of drinking. Bernelle, or as Finella called her now, Bernie, since she called her Finny, knew exactly what Salvael needed.

As Bernelle made breakfast, she noticed how disheveled Finella appeared. "You all right, Finny? You look flush and your hair is a mess. Better brush that out before Lord Musgood . . . . " Bernelle gasped. "Did you and Lord Musgood get together last night?" Bernelle asked.

"What?" Finella said choking on a roll she had been picking at. She coughed to clear her throat. "No. I had a nightmare last night and I thrashed about. Woke up in a sweat," she lied convincingly.

"Oh," Bernelle said sounding disappointed. "I wouldn't be surprised, if you did." Bernelle smirked as she stirred the oatmeal.

Finella swallowed hard. "It was just a dream," she told Bernelle. Bernelle, still smirking, nodded her head.

When it was finished, Finella returned to his room with two plates of breakfast. She noticed he was sitting up in bed holding his head. She smirked as she pushed the door shut with a loud bang.

"Ugh, please don't slam the door," Salvael uttered.

"It's what you deserve after drinking so much last night," Finella said. She went about setting up the table as he slowly got to his feet and made his way over to it.

"Finella, about last night." 

"What about last night?" she asked already acting as if it hadn't happened.

"I loved it."

Finella stopped setting the table and looked over at him, remaining quiet for a bit. "So did I."

Salvael came over to her and wrapped her in his arms. "I know it's not right, but I don't care. I honestly love you."

"I love you too, Salvael, but no one can know. Only these four walls can know, and the bed," she said lightheartedly.

"I know, I know." He leaned his forehead against hers with a small snicker.

"For now, we must forget it ever happened, no matter how difficult," she said toying with the laces on his shirt. "We must go back to being lord and servant."

"You're right," he said letting her go. He took a step away from her, running his fingers through his hair.

"But not before I have a kiss," she said closing the gap between them.

Her lips met his and he groaned. His head swam from her touch and the previous night's wine. He pushed her away.

"Something wrong?" she wondered, thinking they could at least share one more kiss.

"Hmm, feeling at bit uneasy from the wine," he said disappointedly.

She smiled and said, "Sit down."

Salvael finally sat. He groaned when he saw what was on his plate. It was a bowl of oatmeal with chopped dates and honey. He looked over at Finella's plate. She had the same thing.

"Where's my sausage and eggs?" he asked.

"You want to be sick later?"

"No.

"Then eat."

"Why are you eating the same thing? You didn't drink."

"Sympathy." Finella picked up her spoon and began to eat.

They ate in silence. Each one wanting to say something about what happened the previous night, but remembering their agreement to return to their stations.

Finella was gathering the dishes back onto the tray while Salvael began to dress himself, when there was a knock at the door. Salvael looked at the door with a furrowed brow. Finella stopped what she was doing to glance at the door and looked to see Salvael's reaction. 

"Who is it?" Salvael asked.

"It's Garott, My Lord," a deep gruff voice said from the other side.

"Just a moment," Salvael said. He turned to Finella. "Help me get dressed quickly. If he's at my door, there is some sort of urgency."

"Yes, milord," she said setting the dishes to the side and taking up his vest.

When he was dressed, Finella opened the door. The commander of Lord Musgood's forces stood at his door.

"You have a visitor, Lord Musgood, from the House Tyrell," the commander said.

"Tell them I'll be right down," Salvael said sobering up quickly. Finella closed the door after the commander. "How do I look? Presentable? Now I regret drinking so much."

Finella smirked as she went over to him. Buttoning his coat fully, she also adjusted his clothing and smoothed his coat.

"You look presentable enough. You need a shave but we can take care of that later. Hopefully they won't stay long," she told him. "Should I join you or finish up here, milord?"

"Leave it. You'll be with me," he said. She nodded. His eyes lingered on her and he kissed her quickly before they left the room.

In the gathering hall, Mace Tyrell stood there with his own servants and guards.

Finella gasped when she saw the group, but her eyes were fixed on one in the party. Her wide eyes held the gaze of a man that did not appear to be of the stature of the rest of the group. His clothing was of someone middle class. He was slim and had short light brown hair, brown eyes, a narrow nose, and a twisted grin. 

Salvael watched in silent concern, but addressed Mace.

"Lord Tyrell, it is good to see you. What brings you to House Musgood?" Salvael said with a good natured smile.

"My mother is dying," Mace answered shortly.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Salvael returned as his smile faded quickly.

"I wouldn't be here, but you have something my mother wants to see before she passes."

"What would I have that she would need to see?"

"Finella." 

Salvael looked over at Finella in confusion then back to Mace.

"My servant?"

"Your servant. His wife," Mace said and indicating the man next to him.

"Angess," Finella whispered for Salvael to hear as she still stared at her husband.

"And evidently, my half sister," Mace said with bitterness to his tone.

"What?" Finella voiced as her eyes snapped to Lord Tyrell. "I am only a baker's daughter. I'm not nobility. I would have known. My father would have told me. He never kept secrets."

"He was keeping you as the biggest secret of House Tyrell on strict orders by my mother," Lord Tyrell said towards Finella. "A child like you would have been scandalous to our family. Even now, we risk ridicule." But my mother insists on seeing you before she passes." His focus returned to Salvael. "Lord Musgood, I wish my visit was on different terms, but alas, it is not. We must make haste, for my mother does not have long. I'll be relieving you of Finella's care and returning her to her husband."

"You are aware of what her husband did to her, Lord Tyrell. How he sold her to a tavern keeper?" Lord Musgood said before they went anywhere.

"I am well aware of the unfortunate circumstances that Finella," Mace said but gave a lengthy pause before continuing, "Lady Finella, has had to endure. He is still her husband, and now, by marriage, a lord. My mother plans to fully instate her ladyship. Now, if you'll excuse us, we must be leaving."

"Salvael," Finella whispered then looked at him and only moved when one of the two guardsmen gave her a nudge.

Salvael stood in shock, but did nothing about the situation. It was what it was.

The prospect of finally meeting her real mother and becoming a lady were rather exciting occurrences. Being with her abusive husband, was not. As she was led away, she kept her eyes on Salvael. His fists were clenched and he stood rigid. She had come to know this as one of his thinking stances. Gradually, he looked at her and gave her a wink.

"Lady Finella," Salvael said. "Take Derward with you. He may be of use to you."

"Who is Derward?" Lord Tyrell asked stopping as he reached the doorway when he heard Lord Musgood address his sister.

"He's one of my guardsmen. A gift, to the new lady," Salvael said with a smirk.

"That seems reasonable," Lord Tyrell said.

Derward had been standing with Garott. He stepped forward and stood behind Finella.

"Hopefully we will meet again, Lady Finella," Salvael said.

"I look forward to it, My Lord," Finella said appropriately.

Both smirked as she exited.


	15. The Thorn

After her arrival in Highgarden early one morning, Finella was introduced to her mother, Lady Olenna. Her mother explained how she had an affair with Henin, hid her pregnancy, and later gave the baby to Henin to raise while her husband was away. When he returned, he never knew Lady Olenna had another child in his absence. Lady Olenna was pleased with Finella and did instate her ladyship with a semi-formal ceremony, her brother issued the decree that afternoon. A formal instatement would have to take place in front of the king. It would be arranged as soon as possible. The relief of finally seeing her daughter took its toll on the old woman and she passed later that evening. Finella mourned only because she would never know Lady Olenna as her mother, as she should have known her.

Finella and Angess returned to her new chambers after seeing her mother one last time. She went to the window and looked east. Salvael was in that direction. Now, he was a lost love to her. She was stuck in Highgarden with a man she did not love or care to be with. Presently, Angess came over to her.

"What do you want, Angess?" she said bitterly. The finality of losing her lover and mother in one day were making her emotionally drained. She had nothing left to give.

"Is that anyway to speak to your husband, your lord?" he said with suave sarcasm. He grinned as he put his hands on her waist.

"Don't touch me," she said moving away from him towards the center of the room. "How quickly you forget I'm a lady now. I can have you beheaded in an instant."

"Hmph, you've gotten bolder since I last saw you creeping around in shadows. You forget, I'm a lord, and can do the same to you," he said moving closer to her again.

"I out rank you by birth right. Without me, you are still just a baker," she snarled.

Angess slapped Finella across the face. She spun to the right. "How dare you! I can do whatever I please, because you are still my wife."

Finella held her cheek as she glared at Angess.

"Now, come here, darling. We have some catching up to do," he said as he started to unfasten his trousers. 

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Relief washed over Finella's face.

"Who is it?" Angess asked loudly and angrily.

"Lord Tyrell," the voice said sternly. 

Quickly, Angess pulled his shirt from his new trousers and took off the lavish jacket, letting it fall on the floor, and kicked off his shiny shoes as he went to the door. He quickly ruffled his hair before he opened it. Lord Tyrell stood there with something in his hand. Finella could see Derward over his shoulder standing guard by the door.

"Apologies, milord. My wife and I were, uh, just getting ready for bed."

"I see. I do apologize as well, but a message has just arrived for Lady Finella," he said holding out a scroll and observing Angess' state of undress. Angess went to take it, but Lord Tyrell held it from him. "I said for Lady Finella."

Finella pursed her lips to suppress a smile. Then she approached her brother and took the scroll. "Thank you, brother," she said. He must have seen the red mark on her face because he looked at her with concern. "I will see you in the morning," she told him as she gave him a single nod. 

Lord Tyrell glanced at Angess and then back to Finella. "Don't be up too late, we have much to discuss tomorrow. Sleep well, sister."

As soon as Finella closed the door, Angess snatched the scroll out of her hand. "Who would be writing to you. You can't read." Then he opened it. "What is this? It's a drawing of a flower. Here, take it. It means nothing." He thrust the scroll back at her.

Finella carefully looked at the seal. She smiled. It was the seal for House Musgood. Unrolling the scroll, she peered at the drawing. It was a rose with a stem full of thorns. One thorn, a rather large one, had a drop of blood on it. She knew what it meant immediately. Again, despite their distance, Salvael and Finella were functioning as one. She rolled the scroll back up and put it through the slit in her dress to store in the pocket underneath.

"Word must be spreading quickly of me becoming a lady. I was sent a picture of a rose because the sigil of House Tyrell is a golden rose on a green field," Finella said in a sweet tone. She slowly moved towards Angess. "If you knew anything about sigils, you would also know who sent this."

"And who is it from?" he asked with some curiosity but mostly contempt.

Finella had stopped very closely in front of him. She left hand playfully walked her fingers over his chest along the embroidered shirt Lord Tyrell had provided. She looked at him, and stared into his eyes.

"Lord Musgood," she answered. "My lover. The one I'm going to be with. I am a rose and thorn in your side."

Angess gasped and looked down at his side. She had stuck her knife into him. The blood oozed out of the wound. Slowly, he looked back at her.

"You will never hurt me again," she seethed. Finella twisted the blade and he gave another grunt. Gradually, he fell to his knees in front of her and crumbled to the floor. She smiled.

She rushed to the door and opened it. "Derward, I need your help."

Derward turned and peered into the doorway. He saw Lord Angess' body laying on the floor, a pool of blood flowing from under him.

"Yes, milady," he said as he entered the room, suppressing a smile. Finella shut the door behind him.


	16. The Rose

Standing by the hearth, Salvael was reading a correspondence scroll from three months earlier.

_If Finella has met your expectations, your payment is loyalty._  
_~ Lord P. Baelish_

Finella had been exactly what Salvael needed in more ways then one. Now, she was living a much different life in Highgarden with her husband. He wasn't sure if she understood the message he sent her and heard no word from her. He crumpled the scroll and threw it into the fire. Now, he was obligated to be loyal to the Lannisters even after his deal had fallen through. He supposed it wasn't all terrible. The Lannisters and Baratheons of King's Landing were aligned with the Tyrells.

There was a knock on his study door.

"Yes?" he said. The door opened. Salvael looked up towards it. His stern face softened. "Finella."

"It is good to see you again, Lord Musgood. It's been about two months since I saw you last," Finella said. She stood there with her hair partial plaited and cascading down her back in a dress of emerald green brocade that hugged her hourglass form.

"What brings you here?" he asked curiosity and wanton anticipation. 

"I'm delivering a message from my brother on my way back from officially becoming a lady in King's Landing," she informed him. She extended her hand with a sealed scroll in it.

Salvael then realized this was a business transaction from her tone. She was not there to see him, to be with him. His demeanor changed to a silent resolve.

"Lord Tyrell was not with you to witness such a momentous occasion?" he questioned as he moved towards her.

"No, he is busy with other plans," Finella said simply. "I am to wait a response. He asked that you please be quick with your decision. I cannot wait very long."

"Matters of the realm are not to be made in haste," Salvael said tersely. He unceremoniously took the scroll from her hand. Breaking the seal on it, he unrolled it and started reading.

When he was finished, he let his hands drop by his sides in utter disbelief. His brow was furrowed as he turned to look at her.

"Is he serious?" he questioned her not expecting her to know the contents of the scroll. "Do you know what this says?"

"I do. He read it to me before he sealed it," Finella returned clasping her hands in front of her and holding herself more erect.

Lord Musgood stood still with clenched fists by his side as he stared at Finella with a scowl.

"Where is your husband?" he asked.

"You know very well," she said firmly.

"Did you . . . ?" His face softened.

"Yes. Now, will you answer my brother? Time is very important." 

"You keep saying that. There is plenty of time for this kind of decision."

"No, there isn't."

"Why not?"

"I'm pregnant."

Bewilderment washed over Salvael's face.

"You're . . . you're pregnant?" Salvael asked, his heart started to pound against his chest.

"Yes," Finella replied with no emotion but her heart was beating so fast she felt she might faint at any moment.

Salvael turned away from her with his hands clasped behind him. She could see him fidgeting with his fingers.

"Who . . . Is it your husband's child?" he asked feeling anxious about her answer.

"No," Finella answered shortly. Salvael turned around to look at her.

"No?" he stated in confusion, but quickly coming to realization why it wasn't her husband's child.

"It's yours, silly. I'm carrying your child," Finella said smiling but looking on the verge of tears. "So, are you going to answer my brother or not? Are you going to marry me? Please, be quick with your answer or I may faint from anticipation." She started to fan herself with her hand.

He immediately pulled a chair over to her. "For gods' sakes, woman, sit down," Lord Musgood said taking her hand as she sat. He knelt in front of her, his bright blue eyes looked into hers, then he answered her. "Yes. Yes, I will marry you."


End file.
